


Still Hurts

by skyeward



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyeward/pseuds/skyeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like poking a bruise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Hurts

I don’t know why I do it. It’s like poking a bruise as if to make sure that yes, it’s still a bruise and it still hurts and you’re still an idiot for even needing to check.

Even when I manage to restrain myself and not actually ask the question out loud, it’s still on my mind. I may as well just ask it, keep the hurt fresh. I worry that at some point, asking the same question nearly every conversation will give me away, will make my feelings clear, but I can’t stop. It hurts and it’s stupid, and I swear I’ve given up on this whole situation at least twice but somehow…

And it’s not my fault, not really. When I gave up, I was serious about it. I cut back on our conversations, scaled back the smiles, tried to pull away gently as if it were only a natural drifting-apart in the aftermath of…everything. By all rights I should have cut off everything, excised this situation – excised _her_ – from my life entirely. I’m not that strong.

I _am_ strong enough that I was able to abandon the comforts of family living for a tiny apartment just about as far away as possible. It’s not much, but it’s mine, and mercifully free of reminders of the things I’ve tried to leave behind. The move didn’t really make a difference, though. She still finds me, still talks to me, jokes with me, smiles at me…still reminisces about the old days and how close we young folks had been, once upon a time. We tell each other our problems like friends do, and we commiserate. I listen patiently to her love problems and sometimes I’m tempted to give her bad advice, but in the end I can’t do it. I give her good, honest thoughts even though all I want to do is yell at her that they should break up, that their relationship is all wrong and needs to be put out of its misery. I want to grab her and shake her and demand to know why what’s mine belongs to someone else, why I’m expected to just roll over and smile and play the part of the sage advisor.

I’m glad she can’t read the feelings on my face and in my voice, because I’m convinced that she’s the only person in our circle who doesn’t know what this whole situation is doing to me. If she did, she would only take the burden of my hurt feelings onto her own shoulders, and I don’t think I would survive her well-intentioned attempts at sympathy or understanding.

So I try to keep my smiles friendly, my tone light, my topics trivial. And often – but not too often lest I become suspect – I ask the question. It’s not the question I _want_ to ask, and I don’t even want to know the answer, but I’ve got to poke the bruise.

She doesn’t know, I can’t tell her and I won’t let anyone else tell her, that when I breeze a casual ‘so how’s Mako doing?’ that what I really mean is ‘why aren’t you mine?’

Yeah, still hurts.


End file.
